A Face So Similar
by The Phantom's Mask
Summary: Christine gets one month off on holiday, but where does she go? And with whom? If I finish this story it might be quite long so I'm going to have to think of sub-plots... such suggestions are appreciated...


**Disclaimer: **Don't own POTO.  I suppose you could say that I own one of Erik's houses, but if we started debating this I suppose you would also have to say that I own one of Raoul's houses too… *shudder*

**A/N: **This story is E/C (as usual), it's rather more light-hearted than most of the things I write.  And yes, I know Christine is out of character but I don't really care.  Perhaps I will actually _finish_ this story *sighs*.  The title will make sense towards the end.  

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**A Face So Similar**

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**Chapter 1**

**Christine**

Raoul rather clumsily shoved a bunch of extravagant pink roses under my nose.  He always was excessive in everything – when one small gesture would serve the purpose, he had to over-act that gesture _then add several layers of pink, frills, and ribbons just to top it all off.  And when I say that he 'shoved' them under my nose, it actually looked more like he was using them as an epée to lunge at me with.  Had I not seen him do it I would not have thought it possible to use flowers as a weapon but he certainly had a knack for being clumsy and yet managing to subconsciously make it look like he had _meant _to do that._

After backing around my dressing room armchair to avoid being maimed in a flurry of petals and thorns, I offered him a seat thinking that he would probably be able to do less harm if he were sitting down.  _Probably…  _

"No, no, I really mustn't.  I have to leave soon, I just wanted to ask you something," he said with a vague wave of his hand – which also managed to redirect itself through his hair, as if it suddenly realised that it was in the vicinity of his head and was therefore capable of 'killing two birds with one stone,' as it were.  Raoul really was a kill-two-birds-with-one-stone kind of man – he had to be.  After all, someone whose entire brain capacity is undoubtedly made up of just two cells –  _by the way, with Raoul, one's lost and the other's out looking for it _– has to try to get as many things done in one action in order to stop their brain from over-heating.  

"What did you want to ask me?" I reminded him as he had obviously become quite preoccupied with looking at his reflection in the mirror.  I actually found it quite amusing that he was smiling right into the full-length mirror that Erik always stood behind while he waited for me after rehearsals.  It was terribly hard for me to suppress laughter at the fact that if Raoul turned his face up a few more inches he would be smiling straight at the slightly taller Erik who I knew would be behind the mirror and probably quite unnerved at the expression on Raoul's face.

"Oh, of course.  How could I forget?!  Where _is_ my brain today?!" – _that_ was another problem with having a mind quite like Raoul's; it had rather a delayed reaction.  Like when it takes years for light to reach the Earth from a far-away star and it would take years to realise that that star no longer existed because we would still see its light travelling towards us.  Well, since Raoul's brain seemed to have fallen out with his body and had left years ago, it only seemed like he was realising now that maybe, _just maybe_, something was missing.  

"I was hoping that this time you would go away to my country estate with me for your holidays.  You _do have a whole month off and I know you would love it there, you would be with _me_, of course."  I heard a pained sigh from behind the mirror and only hoped Erik didn't actually believe I would even __entertain the thought.  _How dare Raoul be so self-centred… so… absurd!?  …oh… I suppose he's harmless really… he doesn't realise what he's saying…  __

"Listen, Raoul.  I already told you that I would not go with you.  I don't find it at all appropriate, and I had planned something before you asked."  Raoul looked shocked but then that look of placid ignorance which was so predominant in his features plastered itself across his face.  It became obvious to me that either he had caught a glimpse of himself in a shiny object somewhere over my left shoulder or he really had forgotten what he was doing here.  Perhaps both…

"Where was I?" he said as his attention returned to my face.  _Well, I thought, _that's debatable!_  Perhaps his train-of-thought had only been temporarily de-railed...  Then I saw he was staring very intently into my eyes and I just had to wonder if perhaps he could see the faintest glimpse of his hair in them… _maybe I should give him the benefit of the doubt_, I thought…  He ran his fingers through his hair… _maybe not_._

"You were just leaving, Raoul.  You said you had to go."  Well, it wasn't _really a lie – he _did_ say he had to leave soon.  _

"Oh, yes.  Yes, quite," he mumbled in a confused manner as I guided him out the door.

He turned back with his mouth open about to say something.  But I knew what he was going to say – I always did.  Before he could continue I said, "Take three rights then follow the corridor to the left and it's the big door in front of you, okay?"

Adopting a rabbit-discovering-it-just-stepped-into-Tom-Cat-Alley look, he walked away… _with_ the pink, sword-like bunch of roses in tow.  "Oh, well," I muttered, "can't say it's that great a loss."  

Making sure that I had locked the door, I looked over to the mirror.  I heard the beautiful tone in Erik's voice as he spoke.  "Christine, my dear, may I come in?"

"Yes, do come in, Erik."  I was wondering why he sounded quite so… _nervous.  Perhaps that little scene between Raoul and the mirror had unnerved him rather more than I had thought…       _

The mirror slid open as Erik's tall form entered the room, and it glided into place behind him.  _So naturally elegant, I thought.  He shyly clutched the fingertips of my hand and led me over to the couch where we sat down.  I was amazed.  He'd never come into my dressing room and _stayed_ in.  He always came in, got me and __left.  I hadn't thought he had felt safe outside his labyrinth enough to sit with me and talk in my dressing room rather than take me back to the relative safety of his lair.  _

Either way, he _was_ still in my dressing room and I liked the fact that he was feeling brave enough to sit beside me while we spoke.  He raised his hand in front of me and there appeared a long-stemmed white rose with expertly removed thorns.  "For you," he whispered.  How he managed to make it just appear completely confused me – long-stemmed roses don't just appear out of people's sleeves, you know, at least – not intact.  

"Oh, Erik.  How sweet!"  I took the beautiful flower out of his hand and watched him smile.  He really did have a lovely smile because, with Erik, as he rarely had anything to smile about, one could see that when he did, he didn't just smile with his mouth – it appeared in his eyes…  And as for the rose, he knew that making it simple was a better way of showing he cared than was being extravagant.

He shook his head slightly, while still smiling, "No, my dear.  No, _you are the sweet rose!"  _

I laughed with him and leaned up to kiss him on the cheek.  His pale skin was so soft; definitely not what I had expected – I'm not sure why…  "Thank you," I said as he put his hand on his cheek where I'd kissed him.  After a few moments, he smiled again and seemed to remember what he had wanted to talk about.    

"Christine, I'm sorry, I overheard your _conversation with the Vicomte."  He was right – you couldn't really call it a 'conversation.'  "I heard him ask you to his estate and I heard you turn him down."_

"Erik, it doesn't matter that you heard – it was just one of Raoul's little… whims," I said, "don't think anything of it."

"Christine, I wasn't sure if I could ask you after that but I had been planning to ask for awhile.  So…"

"Ask me what?"

"My dear, I knew you would have a month off so I was going to ask you to…  Christine, if, perhaps, the right person were to ask you to…"  He sighed; I could tell he hated being tongue-tied because he never had been before, as far as I knew.  "What I mean is that I have a house near Rouen.  It is beautiful there and I would like you to see it.  I think you would like it and I was going to ask you to join me there for a few days or as long as you want – as a holiday."  He waited a moment and then laughed nervously, "You know, this is why I wanted to ask you, in here – so that if you wanted me to leave I would have somewhere to go to."  He stared down, obviously not sure what to do.

"I would love to, Erik."

He raised his head and looked distinctly puzzled – the sort of bewildered look that a cat might get if you told it that the universe didn't quite revolve around it (providing you could speak to cats and they could understand you, of course).  "But, you turned the Vicomte's offer down, and he asked first – you said you had already planned something…"

"It doesn't matter.  I only said that because I didn't want to offend him any more.  It's just that I don't exactly trust him, but I trust you completely.  So, yes, I would very much like to go to Rouen with you."

"Why don't you trust him, Christine?" he asked, clearly quite concerned.

I laughed, "Oh, I don't know… he probably wouldn't tell me where we were going,"  (_providing, of course, that he could remember himself), "and I would have no way of getting back until I agreed to marry him – you know, something stupid like that."_

I was surprised to see that Erik looked quite serious, sort of anxious, he brought my hand up in his and said, "If that happened, you _know I would find you, you know I would make sure you were safe, you know I would take care of you."_

I smiled the most genuine smile I believe I have ever given anybody.  "I know, Erik.  And that's why I trust _you."_

**A/N: **I've written Chapter 2 but I'm not posting it until I have at least a few more chapters done.  Hopefully, until then… 


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